


Talathien

by maerzkindt



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: (it was fun though), Dancing Lessons, Edain, First Age, Gen, Haladin | House of Haleth, I could not hold back on beefy Haleth I love her so much, JRRT where is the language of the Haladin !! we had to make up so many names!, Sparring, Tolkien Reverse Summer Bang 2020, all-female bodyguard, are they aro / ace or wlw or a combination of two of these? you decide, as a matrilineal society, i said matrilineal not matriarchal, reconnecting with your culture, the only canon character in this is Haleth, there are three men mentioned in this fic and they are all dead, unrestrained summer fun with concepts like names of the Valar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:43:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26312848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maerzkindt/pseuds/maerzkindt
Summary: The all-female guard of Haleth, head of the Haladin, has long been the subject of stories and songs. This is one of them.(Linnoril, a woman from the group later known as House of Hador, returns to her mother's folk of the Haladin and joins the guard. An exploration of reconnecting, forming new bonds and playing fast and loose with First Age Edain lore.)
Relationships: Haleth of the Haladin & Original Character(s)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 7
Collections: Tolkien Reverse Summer Bang 2020





	Talathien

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Tolkien Reverse Summer Bang 2020 as a companion piece to  this  (also embedded below). 
> 
> Thank you, Lyra, for an amazing piece of art, many ideas and a critical eye for canon-compliance. (Which I probably still threw out the window, but you tried.) I imagine this fic to take place a few years after the orc attack on the Haladin in Thargelion, when they have removed to Estolad and are staying in the vicinity of the other Edain (House of Marach/Hador).  
> Notes on the names:  
> Since we know next to nothing about the language of the Haladin, most names are self-created, with borrowings from Adûnaic and Sindarin often mixed in with new made-up endings.  
> The following names have some basis in canon:  
> Linnoril - Sindarin for a female singer or chanter, since she was born in the House of Marach (later Hador) who also speak Sindarin.  
> Ibann - Yavanna (from the Sindarin form Ivann).  
> Neth - Nessa (the Noldorin/Quenya version of the name, meaning "young").  
> Baneth - Vána (meaning "beauty" in Sindarin and Quenya, respectively.)

__

"Bodyguards at training" by Qitian (see link above) 

_Autumn_

The meeting space in the middle of the clearing had been trampled by many feet. The ground was harder than in the rest of the area, soft layers of needles and earth slowly compressed by all the people now sitting or standing in a wide circle around the space.

A good setting for a fight.

Of the two girls circling each other, one was quite tall and held her staff with confidence, while the other seemed nervous. They both wore broad headbands decorated with a geometrical pattern of beads. Suddenly the girl wearing a red headband leapt backwards, swinging her staff around almost too late as the tall girl with the yellow headband started towards her. The sound of wood meeting wood repeated itself a few times before the combatants drew apart again.

Linnoril recognised it would only be a matter of time before the nervous girl made a mistake, and sure enough a few moments later she watched her take a hit on the shoulder. Being made from young, softer wood, the staffs did no serious harm, but it must have hurt anyway. More than that, the girl seemed to be teary-eyed from disappointment as she left the makeshift arena in the other direction than her beaming opponent.

Another fight decided, the moment she herself wished for and dreaded at the same time drew a little closer.

She paid no attention to the announcement of the next two names, choosing instead to look at the figure sat on a little raised dais on the other side of the space.

Haleth was not very tall but looked imposing anyway, her intense gaze contributing to it just as much as her broad shoulders. She must have been a few years older than Linnoril because although her hair was still black with no hint of grey, her lined face spoke of many worries and perils both in the past and future.

She had stood before her two days ago, weary from the journey and the hour spent waiting before finally being admitted to see her. Linnoril had been mustered thoroughly by those dark eyes before being asked to repeat her name and origin.

“My father was Caranor of the folk of Marach, and I grew up in their midst, in the plains to the east of here”, she had said.

“And yet you speak our tongue, _Talathien_.” It should not have surprised her that Haleth knew Sindarin, had she not conversed with the great Elf-lord of Thargelion? _Woman of the plains._ She could think of worse ways to be named.

“My mother is Agaleth, and she is a daughter of your people. If she taught us right, that means my sisters and I are part of your folk as well.”

“Only now that your father is dead and you want to settle among us do you claim that part of yourself. But you are right, and I will not hinder your mother from returning to us, her people. Where is she?” Haleth’s speech had been matter-of-factly, her facial expression rarely changing.

“She fell ill shortly after we arrived at our chosen settlement, or she would have come. But she has sent me to ask on her behalf, on mine and those of my sisters – will you take me into your guard?”

She had bowed her head and waited out the silence that followed. Instead of Haleth, the old woman who had been by her side then as she was now, had spoken. “It is our custom that the participants of these games be girls, so they can be trained for years before they take on the responsibility of a real guard.”

“I am trained and capable. Please, give me a chance to prove it. We have no life left in the plains and my mother wants to return us to her people, but until now we have been met only with suspicion.”

“I cannot blame anyone for that in these times”, Haleth had answered gravely. “But I see what you wish to accomplish for your family. Many send their daughters here in the hopes they will be chosen and bring renown for all their relatives. But we cannot take all of them.”

“Let me take part in these games then. I know the girls fight each other to show you their prowess, let me do the same. We are not looking for renown or an advantage, we simply need… a token of faith, so our neighbours will stop avoiding us.”

Haleth and the old woman had conferred for a moment.

“I will grant your request,” Haleth had told her. “If we deem you fit, you shall be one of my guardswomen until the next summer. After the harvest and the festival of Ibann, you may return to your family, or do as you wish. Imreth here will choose someone of the guard to be your opponent.”

Two days had passed after that, filled with dancing, entertainment and ceremonies. Linnoril stayed mostly to herself but soon found that her story must have made the rounds. She heard people murmur the name given to her by Haleth, _Talathien_ , when she passed. Sometimes she heard it spoken with an air of distaste. But mostly there seemed to be curiosity on how her familiar look – her light brown skin, soft flat nose and dark hair blending in easily – was to be reconciled with the strange name and story attached to her.

At the moment even more eyes than usual seemed to be turned on her. Her heart sank when she realised that, lost in thought, she had missed what must have been Haleth’s old advisor – Imreth – calling her name. When it came again, she quickly pushed through the crowd until she stood in the middle space before the dais.

“And we thought you had left after all”, Imreth said to her. “But now here is who you must fight.”

“Zôri, daughter of Nilubêr!”, she called.

A woman with dark brown hair stepped forth from the group of guards, looking so pleased it made Linnoril feel uneasy.

She was handed a staff by one of the guardswomen – it was longer and made from heavier wood than the ones used in the girls’ earlier fights.

“The first to land a blow will be the winner”, Imreth announced.

The other woman was about her height but with a leaner build that made her more agile. She was quickly moving in and out of her reach, whirling one end of her staff towards the side of Linnoril’s head, then pulling back before going in for a vicious thrust towards her solar plexus. Linnoril barely managed to spin the lower end of her own staff sidewards and upwards, deflecting the course of the blow off her body. She tried to push her advantage, bringing her staff down on the other woman’s head from above in a wide arc, but was met with a swift block. She could feel the collision of those hardened pieces of wood as much as she could hear it, a forceful jolt passing through her arms into her body.

The other woman must have felt it too, as she retreated to a few steps away and did not try to attack again immediately. They stared at each other, breathing heavily.

Linnoril noticed her opponent had slightly shifted her weight to her left leg, her stance not quite as balanced as it should have been. An old injury, maybe, but above all – an opportunity.

She suddenly sprung towards her, going for the head again while leaving her lower torso open to attack. The woman ducked and attempted another thrust, taking a step so that her weaker right leg was now at the back, just as Linnoril had planned. Having sidestepped the thrust, she put all the force she could muster into another blow from above, targeting it so her adversary would have to push back more heavily with the right leg to block.

There was a moment of wild fury on the woman’s face as her block came weaker than it should have been, Linnoril’s staff coming close to pushing her defence all the way back and making her stumble.

Yet the moment of glee at her successful manoeuvre had broken Linnoril’s concentration as well, and she was not prepared for the quick succession of blows her opponent now began to rain down on her. Finally, she made the mistake of not retreating fast enough when the woman swung for her legs. The force of the wood hitting the side of her lower calf made her grunt in pain.

“Enough!”

Imreth had stood up and gestured for them to stop.

There was no cheering, only a low rumble of voices from the crowd. Linnoril stood panting, gripping her staff tightly while pain pounded through her leg. The other woman – Zôri, that was her name, it had not mattered during the fight – eyed her with a grim smile. It brought the realisation of her loss crashing down on her.

_How did I think this would work? They will not let me join, and what of my mother and sisters –_

She desperately looked towards Haleth. Her face betrayed no emotion, but her eyes seemed to be flitting intently between Zôri and Linnoril. She twirled the end of her thick black braid around one of her large fingers a few times before she spoke.

“Well fought, Zôri. And you as well, _Talathien_.”

Zôri’s face darkened and she shot Linnoril an angry look. She stared back, willing the woman to speak up and question Haleth’s judgement. _Give me a reason to do this again, and this time I will be more careful. I just need another chance._

But now the old woman Imreth was talking again, telling her and the crowd of people that the fights were over and the decision on which candidates had been chosen would be announced at sundown. All Linnoril could do was turn and walk away. As she passed through the crowd, she was again painfully aware of the many eyes on her.

She finally found a space at the edge of the clearing that was empty of people and sat with her back against a tree. The bruise forming on her leg was pounding in the same aching rhythm as the questions in her head. She tried to slow her breathing and closed her eyes, opening them only when a while later she heard soft footsteps approaching.

Before her stood the tall, round-faced girl that had won the first fight. She was still wearing her beaded yellow headband.

“How did you do that!”, she exclaimed now. Her face was flush with excitement.

Linnoril was not in the mood to do more than raise her eyebrows in question.

“That moment in your fight earlier, where you took your staff and – “ the girl gestured wildly, mimicking a sweeping motion with an imaginary wooden weapon. “You almost beat her into the ground!”

“That is not what I was trying to do”, Linnoril said, feeling amusement despite herself. “And as you can see, it did not work.”

Her response did nothing to curb the girl’s excitement. “I hope we both get to join, and then you can teach me!”, she said. “My name is Brangni, by the way.”

“Well, Brangni, I think you will be chosen”, Linnoril said, and she meant it. “But I am not sure about myself.”

“Why not?”

“I lost.”

“You could have won as well, though!”, Brangni insisted and sat down. “Did you see how angry Zôri was? With a little luck you would have beaten her, and she knows it! I have seen her fight every time during the last three years or so, even though back then it was just for entertainment, and she is the best of all the guards.”

Linnoril smiled. “That does make me feel better. I take it you have been a candidate before?”

Brangni’s face fell a little. “No, this is my first time participating”, she said.

“Then why were you here the years before?”

She took a breath. “Joining the guard has been my dream for years now”, she said, “but my mother always told me I was needed at home to watch my younger siblings. I kept training though and begging her to at least let me come and watch. But then the last winter was… really bad.”

Her voice became quiet as she continued, “we were starving the whole time. And when I asked my mother if I could participate in the games this year… well, she said yes.” She smiled weakly before seeming to draw herself together and saying, “and I am happy about it! I have wanted this for so long.”

Linnoril looked at her as a familiar ache rose in her chest. “Thank you for trusting me with this, Brangni”, she finally said. “I am… also here both for my family and myself.”

“Where is your family?”, Brangni asked. “You seem to be alone and I heard your strange name, but you look and speak like us. And you can fight with a staff, but my mother always told me the other folks, those who live in the open and have a lot of sheep, do not let their girls handle them.”

“Part of that is true, but not all of it”, Linnoril said. “My father was of the people of Marach, and we did have some sheep when I was younger. Defending them is how I learned to use a staff. Your mother is right that a woman of Marach’s folk will rarely be a well-trained fighter, but without any brothers, my sisters and I had to fill that role.”

“And your mother?”

“Born in Thargelion, but she removed to Estolad when she met my father.”

“Then you’ve been saying it wrong”, Brangni proclaimed. “Your father is of Haleth now, and so are you and your sisters. Because you see, the line of the mother – “

“I know”, said Linnoril, smiling. _If only it truly were that simple, I would not be here._

Talking to Brangni had pushed the gnawing anxiety to the back of Linnoril’s mind. Yet it came to the forefront again, stronger than before, when she looked up and noticed how much of the clearing already lay under the shadow of the surrounding trees.

“I think it is time to go”, she said. “The announcement will be made soon.”

Brangni jumped to her feet like a startled deer. Her eyes seemed alight with excitement and fear in equal measure. “I almost forgot about it! You are good at telling stories, _Talathien_ – “, she said and immediately seemed to regret it.

“My name is Linnoril.” She smiled. “Good luck to you, Brangni. I hope we meet again.”

“I told you it will be both of us!” Brangni shouted over her shoulder as she swiftly ran towards the meeting space where many were already gathered.

How right she was, Linnoril would not have foreseen or believed. She cheered for Brangni as her name was called out by Imreth, and watched her come forth from the crowd to join the girls already standing proudly in the middle.

“Linnoril, daughter of Agaleth!”

A few cheers died in confusion when no one joined in, and instead a murmur could be heard moving like a wave through the mass of people. She had been standing at the very back, but they parted before her as she made her way towards the seat of Haleth, her heart racing. As she towered over them, most of the girls regarded her with a mix of confusion and curiosity, though Brangni’s fierce embrace helped to ignore most of them.

She later struggled to recall the following proceedings, being shuffled to the side by one of the guardswomen because of course she had no idea of what to say and when to kneel, and she was glad to simply watch. She remembered the songs though, some of which her mother used to sing. A slow hymn to Ibann _,_ the earth mother, which used to comfort her as a child when she was afraid of the dark, was now carried over the treetops and towards the first few stars blinking above. Drums beat a fast rhythm for the great hunter as fires were lit around the clearing, dancing on the faces of people she did not know and yet shared the memory of a tune with. And as the people themselves began to dance in praise of Neth, swift runner of the woods and protector of young girls, Linnoril heard her own voice join in the chorus.

_Winter_

A cold gust of wind went through the house as the door at the western end swung open, making the fires flicker and bend. Linnoril shuddered, though she welcomed the bit of fading light that fell inside. They’d had to cover the smoke holes in the roof to keep out the snow, and sitting in the increasingly stuffy darkness made her head ache. She watched as the person at the door closed it and weaved her way through the other women and girls sitting along the middle aisle of the house. When she was a few steps away, Linnoril recognised her as Brangni, face flushed and arms full of firewood.

“Here you go”, she panted, kneeling beside the fire and unloading the wood on the floor.

“Thank you.” Linnoril tucked a few more branches between the already burning ones before storing the rest of the firewood under the bench behind her. “I don’t think I’ll be needing any more.”

“Good”, said Brangni, falling onto the bench with a rather dramatic sigh. “Imreth is making us run rounds through the snow every morning”, she complained. “And then it’s ‘check up on the storage pits, Brangni’ and ‘Brangni, why don’t you bring firewood to the other house’ all day.”

“My father used to make my sisters and me swim in an icy lake once every winter”, Linnoril said smiling. “He said it would accustom us to the cold so we would be able to get out if we ever fell in for real.”

“But she even makes us run before breakfast!” Brangni moaned. “I should play it like Firil – she starts sneezing as soon as she hears Imreth coming, so she gets to stay inside and huddle up.”

“Firil doesn’t get to eat any earlier, though.”

Brangni mumbled something dark but didn’t say any more. Her breathing began to slow, and after a while she seemed to have fallen asleep. Linnoril continued to sit and stare into the flames. Time felt sticky and slow-moving, like resin flowing from a tree.

Every morning she would get up from the bench Brangni now lay on, help with preparing breakfast for their house, then meet the other women of the guard in another building where they would be instructed on their daily tasks by Imreth (assuming she was already finished overseeing the girls’ morning run). She had cut down quite a few trees, made new coverings for the earthen storage pits they relied on during the winter, skinned a rabbit or two and stood for hours upon hours in front of Haleth’s great house, leaning on her staff and trying to fend off the boredom. She could talk to the other guard on her shift, but it rarely led anywhere. The other women seemed to hold her at arm’s length, treating her not unkindly but with a certain reserve.

 _I am an intruder._ She tried not to give the thought too much power, but it was always in the back of her mind. She was not a stranger, indistinguishable from them in her looks and speech, but something in her manner must have set them off.

 _Or maybe it is Zôri._ The woman she had fought to prove her worth to the guard was the one person not masking her disdain. She kept calling her by that name, _Talathien_ , loudly proclaiming to the world how much she did not belong. Every time it made her tense up in anger and helplessness, she wanted to shout at her – _you beat me! You won the fight! What have I done to you to make you resent me so! –_ but at the same time she knew. _I lost, and still Haleth let me stay._ On some days she still was not sure if she was grateful to her, or if she wished Haleth had sent her away. Back to an existence she had been eager to get away from, but at least there she had to deal with none of this. Or maybe she would have, but not alone. She often wondered how her mother and sisters were doing. If they missed her. And then she remembered her mother’s last embrace of her, her thanks, and she decided again that she would have to do this. Her sisters needed her to show, standing in for all of them, that she could be loyal and dedicated to these people that had only been part of her through her mother’s worship, stories and songs until now. _I am not a part of this yet, but once I am, they will not have to worry about proving the same._ Her sisters would go on to marry good men and have children, anchored in their community from the start. That obligation at least she was glad to have left behind. _It will get better,_ she told herself every time she awoke on her bench. Maybe the girl sleeping on it was her only friend right now. But this was not about making friends.

She was not sure how long she had spent in her own head, but when she turned around Brangni had woken from her slumber. Looking at her sleepy, round face and the escaped strands of hair framing it, she was overcome by a tenderness the feeling of which she had missed.

“Did you dream of something good?”, she asked.

Brangni didn’t respond right away, seemingly pondering the answer, when her eyes suddenly widened and she jolted upright on the bench.

“Oh Ibann _,_ I’ve got to go –“

Linnoril opened her mouth to ask why, but Brangni had already sprung up from the bench and was almost sprinting away toward the western door of the house.

“Brangni!”

Imreth’s call stopped the girl dead in her tracks. She reluctantly turned and came back to Linnoril’s spot, where the old woman now stood beside her. A few giggles could be heard from some of the compartments Brangni passed, and she shot them a grim look. Coming face to face with Imreth though, her fighting spirit seemed to leave her.

“You were not there for training this evening”, Imreth said. She did not have to raise her voice again to make Brangni avoid her gaze.

“I’m sorry.”

Linnoril wanted to speak up but met Brangni’s eyes and decided it would not be helpful.

Imreth continued quietly, “I know it is not always pleasant. But this is the path that will make you fit to be a guardian of our lady and our people. Do you still want to take it?”

Brangni met her eyes, suddenly looking determined. “Yes.”

“Then you’re not acting like it.”

Brangni seemed to deflate again and did not answer.

Imreth sighed. “Go and eat with the others, and then have Salibêr go through the new exercises with you.” She nodded for Brangni to leave and the girl vanished quickly out the door into the night.

Linnoril felt like some of Brangni’s earlier terror had rubbed off on her, but when Imreth remained by the fire for a moment and did not leave again she decided to speak.

“I am not trying to defend her, but I liked her company.”

Pulled from her thoughts, Imreth turned to her, and an understanding smile spread over her lined face.

“You can understand her better than most of us, I think.”

_And yet she can be sure that by simply remaining here, she will one day belong._

She tried to sound jovial instead of bitter as she said, “I would not wish for all the running around in the snow, but sitting by the fire with my fellow girls afterwards I wouldn’t mind.”

That made the older woman chuckle, and Linnoril found herself pleasantly surprised when she sat down beside her.

“It is strange, is it not”, Imreth said. “Leaving behind what you know for something you do not know and aren’t sure you will like.”

“I do not wish to leave”, Linnoril responded. She knew she sounded defensive but could not change it.

“And I did not say that. I merely recognise that it was easier for me to make this decision and stick with it”, Imreth said. “I did not have as many years of life left, years I could spend doing other worthwhile things, and neither did I have a family I could turn back to.”

Linnoril hesitated, but her question must have been obvious on her face because Imreth continued.

“My husband had fallen ill and died a few years earlier, and we never had any children.” She sighed. “Now I am glad of that, because it means we never had to lose them.”

“In the orc attack.” It wasn’t necessary to phrase as a question.

“I doubt that without it, so many capable women would have joined our ranks”, Imreth said. Linnoril saw a shadow of grief pass over her face, a shared grief so deep that for a moment she was overcome by a feeling like standing on the edge of a chasm, when even peering into it seems likely to make you stumble.

Imreth was smiling again, though it seemed slightly strained. “But then as many leave us again because they’ve found a man and realised they prefer the family life after all!”, she said cheerily. “So it never gets too crowded.”

“I thought that you all swore to dedicate your life to Haleth”, Linnoril said in confusion.

Imreth laughed. “Oh yes, you heard the new girls say it. We like to think that to attain the blessing of the gods, you should speak in terms they can understand. Is even eternity not just the blink of an eye to them? So we swear to serve for all eternity, and then we quietly follow our human ways. I do not think they mind.”

“So it is all just… politics. All those people send their daughters to stay for a few years, and when they’ve done their duty they get them back? All to show their dedication to Haleth?”

“It is an invitation, not a requirement”, said Imreth. “Of course some families see the… material perks of one fewer mouth to be fed.”

She paused for a moment, and Linnoril wondered if she knew or suspected Brangni’s story.

“But in truth, our lady needs them more than they need her. Forgive me for going on a tangent, but I was here to see most of the guard’s history, and it would not hurt to know it. The guard was first formed during the time of Haleth’s father Haldad. I knew him well, as I had her mother. Haldad saw that in order to survive in this new land beyond the mountains, our scattered people would have to be united. So he asked for the daughters, heirs and future heads of the families, to join his household for a time.”

“He bound them to himself, and in turn their families.”

“The loyalty came naturally. Although I would say it was as much due to Haleth, who was head of her father’s new guard. Many of the first members were her close friends.”

 _I see why she would inspire loyalty,_ Linnoril thought. “And when he died, she took his place and continued the tradition?”

Imreth nodded. “To me, she always seemed content to be her father’s protector and advisor, and I think it was assumed she would be the same to her brother. But then you know what happened.”

Linnoril was silent.

A cool whiff of air told her that the eastern door had been opened for the second time this evening, but it was too dark to see who had come in. Focusing back on Imreth, the old woman was looking at her expectantly, so Linnoril said, “I used to enjoy dancing, back… with my family. When I was watching before the games I recognised a few steps my mother taught me as a child, but I do not know enough to join in.”

“Someone should teach you”, a voice came from behind and they both turned. There stood Haleth, and only now Linnoril noticed the low whispers that had started up in the neighbouring compartments since the door had been opened.

“You are still as silent and swift as _Neth_ herself”, said Imreth. “Stop using it to spook an old woman, you nearly made my heart stop.”

“You always say you are getting old, but only now do I believe it.” Haleth grinned. “You forgot to come and talk to me about the repairs needed in spring.”

Imreth raised her hands in helplessness. “You see my memory is already failing. Besides, I was thoroughly engaged in talking to Linnoril here about your wild younger days.”

“So that you remember.”

“Oh yes. I can recall with the utmost clarity how you dared your brother to climb a tree, then refused to help him down again when he got scared.”

“He always was more honourable than forward-thinking.”

They laughed while Linnoril sat there, feeling a bit lost.

Finally Imreth made to rise from her seat. “Shall we go and speak about the repairs now?”, she asked, but Haleth shook her head.

“No, no more business for today. Instead”, she said as she sat cross-legged on the floor across from them, “I would like to talk to you, _Talathien_.”

Linnoril felt her face flush at the name, even though she heard no disdain in Haleth’s voice. _Am I to be stuck with this name forever now?_ _I should have known Zôri would make it so._

“I am not sure what I could tell you that would interest you”, she answered carefully.

“And I am sure that is not true.” There was a playful twinkle in Haleth’s eyes as they were fixed on her face. It did no good in making the red on her cheeks subside. “I regret we could not talk at all since you have joined us, but the future demands we prepare for it today. Still, since that day I have been wondering where you learned to fight so well. Zôri was fuming, although she beat you.”

Imreth also seemed very interested. “Mostly from my father”, Linnoril answered slowly. “Without any brothers, my sisters and I were needed as defenders of our house and our livestock, and I think he enjoyed training us. My mother was a capable fighter as well, but she never revelled in it.”

“But you do.” Imreth simply stated it as fact. “I saw you practice with your staff on a young tree the other day, and I think it was sorry for ever sticking its head out of the earth.”

“I thought I had gone far enough from the houses”, Linnoril said, embarrassment surging through her again.

“Not quite.” Imreth’s smile took the edge off her teasing, but Haleth’s dark brows were furrowed.

“Why were you not sparring with one of the other guardswomen? It does more for your skills than hitting a defenceless tree.”

“I… have not asked any of them.” Now that she said it, it felt stupid. What use would she be if they were attacked in earnest, hilariously out of practice as she was?

“I can imagine why you have not been able to find any sparring partners,” said Imreth. Her face showed understanding and a little pity. Linnoril did not want it, especially not in front of Haleth.

“I am fine”, she said vehemently. “I will find one of them tomorrow.”

Haleth did not seem convinced until suddenly a smile lit up her face. “What about Zôri! I know she loves a challenge. I am going to ask her to be your partner.”

Linnoril opened her mouth but found she did not have it in her to refuse. Haleth seemed very satisfied with herself – and deep down, she had to admit she had been turning her fight with Zôri over and over inside her head, planning a rematch. It would not be pleasant for either of them, but oh how she wished to beat that woman. _Watch her call me Talathien with a sneer on her face then._

Haleth clapped her hands together. “Then it is settled!”

“Thank you.” She was quite sure she meant it.

Imreth had been watching their exchange with an amused look on her face. Now she stifled a yawn.

“A frail old woman needs her sleep. Will you come with, Haleth?”

Linnoril felt a faint disappointment when Haleth followed Imreth to stand and began to turn away from her.

“Good night, _Talathien_.” She waited for the name to sting her, but it strangely did not.

“Good night.”

She watched their backs moving towards the eastern door, Imreth’s bent and wiry figure appearing even smaller in contrast to Haleth’s broad-shouldered frame. Her black braid gently swung back and forth, and Linnoril was surprised at the fondness the image instilled in her.

Still, she busied herself with the fire which had almost burned down to embers, so the sudden hand on her shoulder made her flinch. It seemed to radiate a calming warmth though, keeping her steady even as she turned around.

“I almost forgot”, Haleth said with a gentle smile on her face, “but in spring, I would be happy to teach you one of our dances.”

_Spring_

Zôri hit the ground with a thud, the staff slipping from her grasp and rolling away.

“That is three for me”, Linnoril said, smiling down at her while she gasped for air.

“I – already – had three as well, cheater”, Zôri groaned.

Linnoril offered her a hand. “I am satisfied with a draw for today, if you agree.”

“You are only satisfied because you know you can never actually win against me”, Zôri said, taking her hand to let Linnoril pull her up.

“Getting knocked on your head has made you forget the day before yesterday then. I would want to erase that from my memory as well if I were you.”

Zôri picked up her staff and raised it threateningly, but she was grinning.

The quick pounding of approaching footsteps heralded exactly who Linnoril thought it would be, as a moment later Brangni rounded the corner of the house behind which they had been sparring.

“What are you doing! You said you would come!” she cried.

Linnoril and Zôri exchanged a look of sudden guilty panic. “Has it started already?” Zôri asked.

“No, of course not! I told Imreth I would not fight until you two were there, but she said she would disqualify me if I did not find you soon!” Brangni gave an exasperated sigh. “You can beat each other up later, now come watch me do it! You should see Salibêr, she is shaking because she is so scared.”

Salibêr was not, in fact, shaking, but she was no match for Brangni’s skills. Her friend moved gracefully inside the circle of guardwomen surrounding the two girls, switching between attack and defence in fluid motions. _She is dancing, and one day she will surpass all of us_. The thought sat warm and glowing inside Linnoril’s chest as she looked at Imreth standing across from her. The old woman was smiling contentedly, holding her staff in her right hand. After a while she pounded it on the ground twice to signal the end of the fight. Brangni and Salibêr bowed.

“Good, very good”, said Imreth. “Salibêr, do not get too intimidated. Look for the fatal weakness that often comes with overconfidence. Brangni, I give you the same advice, except to look for it within yourself.” She beckoned them to come to her and laid her hands on their shoulders. “You shall receive your first beads in three days, at the beginning of the festival of Baneth.”

The last days in preparation of the festival were spent picking the first blueberries, decorating the outside of the houses with fresh greenery and finishing up any embroidery on clothing begun during the winter. Linnoril was quite proud of the ornaments she had done around the edge of her sleeves. Finally, the last of the stored foods and the first of the new year’s harvest were put together for a feast that could last for days. They were ready to welcome Baneth, who would open the flowers and make the earth ready to bear the fruit of Ibann in the summer.

Brangni and the other girls received their beads on the first day at midday, each choosing one to add to their necklace or belt. The bright red one looked quite right sitting on a leather string below Brangni’s throat, and Linnoril was sure it would not be long before more would appear there.

The nights were getting shorter, darkness being pushed back by a period of time when the sun had already set but the sky still faintly glowed in many different hues of blue. After the feast Linnoril lay on the ground outside one of the houses, not doing anything besides looking up, until Brangni discovered her.

“Why do I always have to find you when you are missing?”, she said. “No time to lie around, we need another pair of feet for the dance!”

“I still don’t know any of the steps! “, Linnoril tried to protest, but Brangni dragged her towards the fire and the waiting women. Firil began playing her flute as they formed two rows facing each other. It was exactly as Linnoril had feared – she did her best to mimic the woman across from her, but it wasn’t long until she bumped into her neighbours, tangled her feet and stumbled. Laughter rang out around her as she tried, red-faced, to keep up. After a few more accidents she fled from the row, and even further away when the others would not stop trying to get her back into it.

Wandering aimlessly for a bit, she found herself in front of Haleth’s house. She had not been at the beading ceremony and disappeared again right after the feast. Linnoril pulled the door slightly open and peered inside. The great fire had burnt low, emanating only the last hint of reddish light. It was still enough to make out Haleth’s large shape crouched in front of it. She looked up just as Linnoril had decided to close the door again and beckoned her to approach. As she stepped nearer to the fire, Haleth greeted her with a smile that seemed, above all, tired.

“I needed some time alone to think”, she said. “But now I am glad to have been found. It is no use pondering the future in the dark.”

Linnoril said nothing. Even if she always acted friendly towards her, Haleth remained at a distance. She had never been alone with her like this, always other guardswomen or Imreth around them. Feeling overly conscious of the silence, Linnoril tried to think of something to say, but Haleth came first.

“Do you miss your family?”

The question was never what she would have expected, yet Linnoril recognised the genuine wish for her to answer in Haleth’s gaze, even if its intensity still made her feel a bit uneasy.

“You ask whether I will stay?”

“It was agreed that if you joined us, it would be until the time of the next festival of Ibann. Already you have become not only a steadfast guard, but from what I hear also … a friend. You have fulfilled your mother’s wish to secure your family’s re-acceptance into our people. Today a messenger arrived from your mother’s village, telling us that your youngest sister will be married soon.”

Linnoril felt a great relief wash over her. Even as things bettered for her, this one worry had stayed as a background to all her thoughts, and only now that it was gone, she recognised how heavy it had lain on her. _They are at home._

Haleth seemed to read her expression, for she sounded a bit guilty when she continued, “I did not call for you earlier because Imreth said you were still needed in the festival preparations. But now you know, and if you wish to… you can leave, even now. You have not answered my question, but I imagine you would want to see your mother and sisters again, and perhaps you also wish – “

“I do not.” The words had tumbled out of her mouth before she could think about it and she felt her face flush for the second time this evening. Haleth regarded her for a moment with nothing but a comfortable recognition in her eyes.

“I see.”

Linnoril rose, different feelings whirling around in her chest. She greatly wished for a breath of the fresh spring air.

“There is dancing outside”, she said. “I only tread on everyone’s feet, but maybe you would enjoy it.”

“I very much enjoy dancing”, Haleth said while following her outside. After a moment, a mischievous grin appeared on her face, a rare deviation from her normally grounded demeanour. “I cannot bear to see you left out.”

Linnoril started to shake her head, but Haleth would hear none of it. “You thought I would forget! No, _Talathien_ , I know you don’t like the name, but you will not lose it until you can dance like a true woman of the woods!”

 _I don’t mind it now, actually_ , she did not say aloud _. It is good to know where you have come from, even if you are in a different place today._

Standing a little way from the larger group, they took each other’s hands and Haleth guided her through the sequence of weaving steps, not laughing but giving words of encouragement instead when she lost the rhythm. Linnoril gradually grew more comfortable until she could move through the steps with relative ease, only making a mistake every now and then. She stopped looking at her feet and instead met Haleth’s eyes, unable to suppress a giddy grin.

“I can do it!”

“I never doubted you.”

They joined the other women by the large fire, where several of them now sat with drums to accompany Salibêr on the flute. There was great cheering at the arrival of Haleth, and Linnoril immediately found herself wedged between her and Zôri, with Brangni beaming at her from the row across. They each put their right hand on the shoulder of their neighbour and started slowly, moving first to the left and then in reverse while the flute played a gentle tune. As it got faster, more and more drums joined in, until Linnoril felt the vibrations through her feet, and even though the flute was almost inaudible, its melody was inside her.

When Haleth would ask her question again, she would know the answer.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I would appreciate your comments and criticism.


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